


Everything Will Be Alright

by alecjbi



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Coma, Father-Son Relationship, Hospitals, Hurt Peter, I’m sorry, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not really but whatever, Sad, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, peter’s in a coma, steve and tony’s relationship is not the main focus but it’s still there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12957786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alecjbi/pseuds/alecjbi
Summary: It was a normal mission, a normal day, a normal everything.If only it were actually that easy.





	1. Day 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my name is alec and i have no fucking impulse control
> 
> i have four multi-chapter fics going on, but i had this idea and. i’m sorry i HAD to. it’s been in my mind for the past two days and i had to write it. updates will be sporadic and short at best. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i know basically nothing about the marvel franchise. i like superheroes. i have seen spiderman: homecoming. that is literally it. pls don’t yell at me if i get stuff wrong
> 
> anyways, tell me what you think!! or hmu on tumblr, i love meeting new people
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

The first night, Tony knew, would be hell.

It always was. The first night watching them lay helpless in a hospital bed was the worst. He had seen it countless times before- the best men and women the world had ever seen hooked up to ventilators, their life being held together at the seams. He had been there, held their hand through the night, cried because though he would never admit it, he was terrified.

The first night, the first time he saw them laying neatly under the covers of a hospital bed, would be the worst. He knew what was coming.

Yet, when he saw his own kid in that bed, everything changed. 

He knew, he _knew_  that letting the kid go and fight on his own was a bad idea. Sure, he had been doing it for three years now, and he knew what he was doing. Peter had even built his own suit last year with very little help from Tony. He claimed that he “wanted something that was his, not something someone else made for him”. The kid was a genius and could get himself out of nearly any situation with a combination of wit and skill. But even with all that stacked in his favor, Tony _knew_ he shouldn’t have let Peter go on his own. 

Now, he was laying in a hospital bed. Now, he was breathing mechanically, and the EKG showed very little activity. Now, he was in a coma and _it was all Tony’s goddamn fault._

The day had started out normally. Peter drove to the compound and met Tony for breakfast. The two did it nearly every day. The other Avengers, once they had caught wind of it, called it a “father-son breakfast”, and Tony could not in good conscious deny it. 

Peter was still the kid he was when Tony first laid eyes on him. A little bit older, a little bit wiser, but still the same excitable and kind-hearted boy Tony knew. He had the biggest heart of anyone that the billionare had ever seen, which usually landed him into trouble.

Which landed him into this goddamn mess. 

As soon as the television flashed to breaking news, Peter was begging Tony to go and help. From what he could glean over the shoulder of a never-still teenager, there was a hostage situation not too far from here. Not something Peter hadn’t dealt with before, but still something Tony didn’t feel comfortable letting Peter go to. 

That sinking, dark feeling in his stomach told him that Peter should stay right here, that he _knew_ something bad was going to happen. 

But Peter could handle himself, right?

Finally, after Peter wearing him down, (mostly by calling him “dad”, damn that kid’s ability to find his weak spots) Tony let him go. The kid practically whooped and gave Tony a sloppy hug before running out the door.

Tony’s eyes were glued to the television. It only took a few minutes for Peter to arrive, swinging between the buildings and giving reporters a thumbs up before crashing through a window. 

Soon, hostages were running through the front doors of the building.

Criminals were being slung down the side of the building by webs. 

Everything seemed fine, but Tony knew better. Something was happening. Peter was still in there. He was about to pull up the information from Peter’s suit when he heard it.

Peter screamed.

Tony’s blood ran cold. That... that scream wasn’t good. Peter was hurt, and the sudden cut off only made Tony’s mind go to the worst possibilites. 

He forced his hands to stay still as he checked the vitals of Peter’s suit. No blood loss, but his BP and heart rate were slowing dramatically. His breathing as well.

Tony’s heart stopped with Peter’s as he realized that the kid was _dying._

His voice shook as he called for FRIDAY to bring his suit. 

It all seemed like a lifetime ago. Tony felt his hair gray more and his heart burn as another lifetime in the waiting room slipped away. The words _brain hemorrhage_  and _stroke_ echoed endlessly through Tony’s mind. Peter hijacked his every train of thought. Yet one word always made its way to the forefront.

_Coma._

His own kid was in a coma, and it was all his fault. Tony knew that Peter wasn’t actually his child, but he was far past the point of not calling him “son”. They might as well be father and son. Tony was even starting to collect adoptiom papers and bring it up with Peter.

Of course, now that the kid was in a coma, he wouldn’t have the chance. 

Tony had messed up a lot of things in his life. Most things, actually. Peter was the one thing he couldn’t mess up, and still, he failed.

Tony couldn’t go in. He couldn’t see his own child, the only goddamn thing that made life worth living anymore. Seeing that kid- he was still just a _kid-_ lying nearly dead in a hospital dead just might kill him. 

And if Peter died, Tony died with him.

A sob escaped him as he clutched Peter’s suit to his chest, as he held onto to the only thing that, by the end of this, he may have left of his son. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tony and jer (edit: peter wtf) have known each other for a good amount of time now- 3 years ish. peter is a senior and tony is practically his father because what kind of author would i be if i didn’t give them a father/son relationship
> 
> i hope you liked it!! i’m kinda new to this fandom so tell me when you think and recommend some fics for me. ily and thanks for reading!!!


	2. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it usually takes forever for my fics to get a good amount of attention but this is already at 500 hits?? i know i’m not well known in this fandom so,,, how. but thank you so much!! i love getting comments, they make my day, so pls yell at me in the comments or on tumblr
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

“Tony?”

A small voice came from Tony’s right. Through dried tears and a blurry layer of sleep, he could spot a woman beside him. May.

The sharp pain shooting through Tony’s heart was just as bad as the thought of Peter.

”Yes?” His voice was shaky and quiet, the statement hardly considered an acknowledgement from Tony Stark. Peter’s suit lay pressed against his lips from falling asleep on it. He repressed the urge to throw up into it.

May sat next to him looking much smaller than usual. Large bags sat under her eyes, dark and evident signs of apparent grief. The thought sent Tony reeling, knowing that _he_ was the cause for the pain. Unidentifiable emotions bubbled in his chest, a hot sensation coming up his throat like he was going to be sick.

Count it on Tony, the multi-billionare and literal human disaster to throw up in his mouth. 

Tony swallowed the pain sneaking up his esophagus to face what was in front of him. A panic-stricken woman who was faced with the fact that her practical son was in a coma and on the literal brink of death was next to him.

Great. 

May simply sighed, burying her head in her hands. She was disheveled, the dictionary definition of a mess. Her hair was sticking up at odd ends, and she was wearing nothing but a tank top and jeans despite the frigid November air. 

Tony could understand exactly where she was coming from. 

After a moment, a shaking and tired voice spoke. “They... they told me what happened. Blunt trauma to the head. He-He stroked out during surgery and now he’s in a _coma-“_ May lifted her head and sprung her arms out in front of her. “I can’t believe this. I always knew that something like this might happen, but I never thought...”

”I guess his super healing doesn’t apply to comas,” Tony muttered. The words came out like a bitter laugh, the same poison stuck in his blood spewing up and out. “I’m so sorry, May.”

May reached out a hand and patted his knee softly as if he were a child. “You’re his family too. Don’t be sorry.”

The statement had always been in the back of Tony’s mind, an unspoken agreement between him and Peter. Hearing out loud was something entirely different. The conformation that Peter was his family, his son... 

“I’m going in to see him. Do you want to come?” May was standing now, her voice becoming strained. Tony could detect the tears without even having to look up.

”No. I... I can’t.”

It wasn’t something that Tony said often. He was one of the most influential men in the world, goddamnit, he could do anything. 

Except this, apparently. 

No matter what he did, Tony could not face to look Peter in the face, to see what he had become.

What Tony had made him.

May sighed and a pair of light footsteps trailed away, leaving Tony alone.

For the first time in so long, Tony was truly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i listened to a bunch of 90’s songs while writing this which does not fit the mood i want this to have so it’s,, weird. brain stew by green day is playing as i’m writing this note lol (a song called why’s everybody always picking on me came on whilst writing and man... if you listen to it, it’s. interesting)


	3. Day 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i introduced other characters from the series that i know nothing about..... i only know their mannerisms from other fics...... oh god.........
> 
> anyways. yell at me in the comments (seriously i love comments!!!) or see me shitpost on tumblr
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

Tony hadn’t left the hospital in a week.

Sure, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. He knew that people were staring at him, taking pictures and wondering why the _hell_ billionare Tony Stark had been sitting in the same waiting room for a week. He was sure that this was definitely against the rules, he was loitering or some shit, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. Apparently, neither did the hospital staff. Barring a few nurses asking him to go to the cafeteria and eat if he was going to stay here, no one cared.

Maybe it was because he was an intimidating multi-billionare. Maybe it was because he was a greiving “father”.

Tony didn’t know either way. 

May had stopped by every day. If she was better or worse after seeing Peter, Tony couldn’t tell. She didn’t seem surprised to find Tony here- in fact, she brought two pillows, one for Tony and one for her, and stayed the night to keep him company.

Tony, the usually eccentric, wise-cracking, witty, and probably very annoying billionare, was quiet.

Sure, he had experienced grief. Quite a lot, actually. It left him crippled for about a month, but then he’d realize they were gone and he’d have to get over it. He would wrap everything in a neat little box at the back of his mind and call it a night. He would still crack jokes and smile through that month of excruciating pain. 

This, however, was different.

He couldn’t find it within him to smile, to make a one-liner to cheer up May. It seemed like Peter was the one thing that had been holding Tony together these past three years, the only thing that had given him meaning. He noticed the obvious codependency issues right off the bat, but couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

Peter was his _kid._ He couldn’t be the reckless, uncaring person he was before. 

His teammates had noticed his change as soon as Peter had rejected the offer to join the Avengers. It was probably a good idea he didn’t join as well. Tony and Peter had grown together quickly, Peter spending weeks at a time at the compound, even bringing May with. Rhodey teased him relentlessly when he “nerded-out” Peter’s room. Natasha had started crying laughing the first time that Peter called Tony “dad”. 

While Tony would always stick by the statement that his teammates were dicks, they were supportive of Tony’s makeshift family. That would show through when they visited.

Of course, not everyone came. Tony probably would’ve hidden in a bathroom if they did. Tony had to do a double take when Steve, Bruce, Rhodey, and Natasha showed up in front of him, but soon slumped back into the hard waiting chair.

They had pulled chairs together so they sat in a circle. Each person stared at Tony, waiting for him to say anything, but the man simply stared holes into the floor.

Rhodey finally spoke, voice too loud for Tony, who had only heard hospital chatter and an occasional clatter when someone slipped up.

”Y’know, Tone, none of us knew where you were. You don’t have your phone on you, anything we could track. Your suit flew back without you, or some random shit like that. FRIDAY wouldn’t let us access where it had been. We were gonna file a missing person report-“ he exhaled out of his nose in a bitter laugh, “-but then Bruce here heard through the nurses that you were camping out here.”

Tony still stared at the floor. “Nothing in the tabloids?”

Natasha exhaled. “Do you think we read those? But no, nothing. You’ve stayed under the radar well enough.”

Steve then tilted Tony’s head up. Normally, he would’ve been disgusted by the action, disgusted by the touch (he hated people touching his neck and chin), but he let it happen.

He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Steve’s eyes bore into him, soft yet stern. There might’ve been a time where Tony was drawn into them, pulled apart by their gaze, but not even this could melt away at the walls around him. The hand positioned under his chin held him as if he were about to break, as if the slightest wrong move would shatter him. In retrospect, Tony thought, it probably would’ve.

”Tony, why are you here?” Steve had whispered the question, afraid to hear the answer.

It only took one word, one that Tony wished he would never had to speak in this context. His eyes burned and watered as he stared at Steve, the words burning and dissipating on his tongue.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he _couldn’t._

It was too much. But the looks from his teammates, his friends... he had to.

“Peter.” It was the only word he could get out before the tears started falling, before a sob cut him off and tore up his throat.

Tony heard Bruce gasp next to him, and could practically hear Natasha frowning. Rhodey muttered something along the lines of _I was wondering why he wasn’t over there asking where you were._ Steve simply leaned forward and gathered Tony in a hug. For a moment, he burried himself in Steve’s shoulder, wishing for anything but what was happening. He could’ve stayed there forever, forgotten the world and fell asleep, but he owed something to his friends for disappearing for a week.

Damn his morals.

He pulled away from Steve, eyes still watering and lungs still burning, but turned to his teammates. Bruce put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Natasha shot him her best attempt at a comforting look.

”May I asked what happened?” Bruce pushed his glasses up, eyes sad but eager. “Maybe I could help, I could whip up something-“

Tony stopped him with a hand up in his direction. He then rubbed his face, slightly guilty at the expression on Bruce’s face, somewhere between embarrassment and concern.

“He, uh... remember that hostage situation at the travel agency near the compound?” Everyone nodded with varying degrees of assurance. “Well, I... I let Peter g-go by himself. He had b-blunt tramua to the head and... and I took him here, made sure no one knew him. I-I tried to get him h-here fast enough, but...”

It took everything for Tony not to break down. He had to stay strong, for him, for Peter, for everyone. As Steve put a hand on his shoulder, a sob nearly escaped him. Damn his ability to take him apart. Damn this situation, damn Peter for lying dying in a hospital bed. 

Damn everything.

”He went into emergency brain surgery. He stroked out on the table. So, Bruce, unless you can fix comas, there’s nothing you can do.”

He sighed. His entire body hurt, like he was in a permanent hangover. Everyone seemed to pick up on it, patting him on the back or running hands through his hair. Bruce was up, pacing, muttering something under his breath and promising that he would fix Peter.

Tony knew the promises were empty, and hated himself for hoping that they weren’t.

”Have you seen him?” It was Natasha, who was now kneeling next to him. “Cause, if you don’t mind, I’d like to.”

Tony shook his head, and Natasha choked. “Okay, I’m done being comforting. You’re seeing him. You’re going to stop wallowing and get off your ass and accept that this shit is happening.” Her voice was shaking, hair frizzy and oddly framing her face. “You’re not going to heal if you don’t accept that this is happening. And if he dies-“ her voice broke on _die,_ and she started shaking. Tony reached up and grasped her hand. “If he dies, you’re going to blame yourself for not seeing him. You’ll do something stupid, and half the team wouldn’t be able to function if you did. So get off your ass and see your fucking son.”

Steve, Rhodey, and Bruce immediately started apologizing for Natasha, but Tony simply stood up. His feet carried him towards that cursed room, as if he had walked it a million times before.

Each step took a year off his life, his lungs burning and head numb as he reached Peter’s room. His heart pounded as he pushed open the door.

And there he was.

The sight was unbearable. Peter looked tiny, frail. There was tube stuck down his throat, his chest moving much too steadily. He was mechanical, attached to a machine that was his only lifeforce. 

He wasn’t sure how or when, but his knees gave out, strong arms wrapped around his torso. His lungs were on fire, face wet with a waterfall of tears. 

He couldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t stop shaking. Everything was on fire as he watched himself from above. He watched as Steve grasped him, held him for dear life as he sobbed. 

He watched as he screamed, only one word able to escape his closing throat.

_Peter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally please comment?? i love them sososo much. even more than kudos. ily all
> 
> idk anything about popular ships here but i’m likin tony and cap. i was playing with it here, it was fun, but it won’t be the focus of this. peter and grieving!tony is obvs
> 
> also, a little bit in my life, i had my first climbing comp yesterday!! i got 104, 24 points off of going to finals, which is really good considering i haven’t really climbed in a few years and it’s my first comp. i’m rlly beat up tho, i have huge-ass bruises on my knees, scraped up my shin, knocked my elbow rlly hard, and my calf cramped bad and now it hurts. but i have a bit of muscle now so yay :)


	4. Day 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched iron man yesterday night so!! i’m picking up on tony’s character. and i love pepper so she’ll be appearing more :)
> 
> yell at me in the comments or on tumblr, or buy me a coffee if you’d like
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

Tony wasn’t exactly sure how, but Bruce had gotten clearance to work on Peter’s case. Tony had stayed overnight again, though this time it was in Peter’s room. The nurses brought him a rollaway bed that he slotted next to Peter’s.

He has a death-grip on Peter’s hand, the mechanical sound of air exhaling from the kid’s lungs stealing any chance Tony had at sleep. Throught the whole night, his hand never left his son’s. 

Steve had stayed for a few hours, offering to keep Tony company, but the billionare refused. It would be too much, seeing Steve’s sad and worried eyes on his as sleep evaded him. Well, too much than it already was.

Bruce, at the ungodly hour of 4 AM, walked into Tony’s room with a clipboard, pencil, and determined look in his eye. There were also large bags under them, paired with messy hair. It was an obvious sign of a sleepless night, one that Tony recognized in himself when he dared to look in the mirror. 

“Did-did I wake you?” Bruce asked when Tony stood. “I’m sorry if I did.”

”No, I didn’t really sleep anyways. It’s fine.” 

Bruce nodded solemly and went to Peter’s side, scribling on the clipboard in some script that was no doubt unreadable to anyone but the scientist. Tony watched him, absentmidedly running a hand through Peter’s hair. 

After a moment of silence, driven by curiosity and the overwhelming urge to stop thinking about the fact that _he was grasping onto his dying son,_ Tony spoke. “What are you doing?”

Bruce turned with that same determined look in his eyes that Tony had seen a million times before. “Well, I’m examining Peter. He has minimal brain activity, but not so minimal that it would warrant a diagnosis of brain death. They took him in for an MRI multiple times, and there is some activity in the cerebellum and right cerebral cortex, though it is declining rapidly. Of course, he is a 3 on the Glascow scale, but I think if we are able to increase that by even one point with a treatment I’m developing, he will be able to make a recovery.” 

Bruce spoke so fast that Tony could hardly make out any of the words he was saying, but one stuck out. He could feel his heart start to speed up at the thought, enough so it could power both his and Peter’s.

”Recovery?”

Bruce nodded, not even looking up from his paper. “Yes. It’s incredibly complicated and there is no chance that it will even work, but it may be Peter’s only hope. We need to keep the brain activity that he does have left, possibly with electromagnic shock to mimic the neurotransmitters that were damaged in his incident-“

Tony blinked, whatever hope that had filled his heart slowly draining. “Bruce, Bruce slow down.” Bruce looked up, an apologetic look plastered on his face. “Even if I wasn’t running on no sleep and didn’t feel like shit, I wouldn’t understand what you were saying. I understand machines, not all this medical stuff.”

Bruce sighed, pushing up his glasses and glancing at Tony’s hand which was still in Peter’s. Whatever frown he was trying to repress snuck onto his mouth. “Well... Admittedly, I don’t know much about comas, I’m not an expert-“ Tony raised an eyebrow, seriously doubting that statement, “-but I know enough. For whatever reason, parts of Peter’s brain are still working, though barely. They can’t communicate with each other because the links are broken. There may be a way to fabricate these, since they will not heal on their own, and put them back in.” 

Something ran through Tony's veins, shocking them and sending something sweet to the billionare’s brain. Hope. “So, that means-“

”No, Tony,” Bruce said, whatever was there draining out. He was back to the numb shell of a man he was when this whole ordeal started. “That’s counting on the fact that the other parts of Peter’s brain start working again, and that we could even develop the technology. It could take years, Tony.”

And there came the phrase that Tony had been dreading that entire conversation. It was only five words, but it made Tony want to curl up and go to wherever Peter was. It made him remember that all this shit was real, nothing could fix this in a short time.

He was without Peter. 

Tony could hardly hear Bruce say “don’t get your hopes up” before he was out the door, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. The frigid air outside soon met him, freezing the wetness collecting on his cheeks.

He needed to get away from all of this, get away from facing his dying son, a treatment that wouldn’t even work, all the shit in his life.

He needed to go home.

All of the Avengers were happy to see him. Pepper looked as if she were about to slap him, but instead hugged him and gave the customary condolences. 

Tony, quite frankly, was tired of the pity, but accepted it. If he just nodded his way through it, he would get to go to bed earlier.

After brushing his teeth and showering for the first time in a week, Tony climbed into bed. He knew that it was still early, but he felt as if he could sleep for a year. He could join Peter in the dreamless detachment from reality. At least this time he had a warm, living body to greet him and hold him tight.

Said body presented him with a ripped up blanket.

“What’s this?” Tony asked, sticking his fingers through the holes of the cloth and playing with the frayed edges. It smelled and seemed familiar, although it could just be the fact that Tony was slotted gently in Steve’s arms. He lay on his side, facing the wall, Steve fitting around him like the last piece in a puzzle.

Though, it still felt like something was missing.

Steve reached over to run his finger over the split corner of the blanket. “It’s, uh, Peter’s. I think he still sleeps with it when he has a bad night.”

The air deflated out of Tony’s lungs at the sound of Peter’s name. It was deafening, overwhelming, and too quiet all at once. He wished for everything not to hear it right now.

”You know, I missed you while you were gone.” Tony frowned, trying to muster an apology that he really didn’t have the energy for, but Steve still spoke. “I considered getting a cat so I had something to snuggle with.”

Tony exhaled in a bitter laugh. “You’re a dork. Should’ve just used this blanket.”

”I’m your dork. And, no, that blanket’s for you. So you have something of Peter’s while he’s gone.”

Tony spread the blanket out to body length and desposited one end in the crook of his neck. It smelled exactly like Peter- of mint and coffee and motor oil from the lab. It even reminded it of him, broken at some points, but still great and warm either way.

It was kind of pathetic that he was holding his son’s blanket in the vain effort to hold onto him, but Tony couldn’t find it in himself to care.

”I think I remember it,” he said finally. Steve’s breathing remained steady, Tony wasn’t even sure that he was awake, but kept talking either way. “He came in here one night and was holding it. Came and laid with me because he was scared or something.

”Poor kid was having a panic attack,” Steve said, voice low and reminiscent. “He told me later that he dreamed that you had died and had to make sure you were alive. I think you almost cried when you saw how pale he was.”

”Funny how the tables turn,” Tony muttered, tightening his grip on the blanket.

”I think he was a little weirded out that I was there too. I mean, we’re close and all, but you’re really the one that’s his dad.”

Steve had meant well, Tony knew deep down. His voice was soft and tried to be comforting, but the words still hurt.

Dads were supposed to protect their kids, and that was the exact opposite of what was happening.

”I never wanted to be a father,” Tony said, so soft that he wasn’t even sure he was speaking. “I didn’t want to be like my dad. I was afraid. But, then Peter came along and...”

”It was like everything clicked into place,” Steve said, finishing Tony’s sentence with a neat bow. 

Tony nodded. “Yeah. He’s my everything. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”

Steve pressed a small kiss behind Tony’s ear, and he knew what was coming. The billionare felt small, even smaller than when he had first seen Peter in that hospital room and his heart was absolutely ripped out of his chest. Now they were just trying to find the pieces, stitch them back in. 

It felt as if his arc reactor was being pulled out and put back in a million different times, over and over until all that Tony was was numb.

He was back in that cave, watching the only person he had die. He was seeing the one person that could have been a father to him try to kill him. Every bad thing that happened in his life was coming back to him, overwhelming him, pushing him down with a tidal wave until he hit the bottom, breathing in water instread of oxygen.

But this...

“You know, Tony, you are living without him.”

Tony sighed. “I wish I wasn’t.”

There was the tidal wave, crashing and pushing him down, overloading his arc reactor until he flatlined. 

He was nothing. His voice didn’t even sound like his own when he spoke.

”You know how I always say that there’s something worse, it could be worse?” He could feel Steve nod against him, his hot breath on his skin doing little to melt the ice consuming him.

The tidal wave of everything bad in his life stood there, crashing, destroying, but...

”There’s nothing worse than this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo please comment!! i love comments!! i love getting feedback and hearing from you guys, it’s one of the main reasons i write
> 
> i made half that shit with the coma up. no idea what the hell i’m talking about. let’s just... go with it


	5. Day 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t have anything to say but here’s some pepper for you
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

Peter had gotten moved from the ICU to a normal hospital room.

Tony had been pushing for it- he was going to be there often and wanted to protect Peter’s identity. The kid’s new room was in the VIP section of the hospital- not that there was much difference between the VIP and regular section. There was always the option of moving Peter into the medical wing in the Avenger’s compound, but having his (dying) kid in the place where he lived and worked? Yeah, no thanks.

Once the doctors (with a little haggling from Bruce) had deemed him “able to be left alone and not die” (the genius Avenger’s explination to Tony), they moved him. The billionaire, completely aware of rules and how Peter would be patronizing him for being a helicopter parent, accompanied the nurses and peered over their shoulders with the “if you fuck this up I can and will ruin you because I’m Tony-goddamn-Stark” look the entire time.

The thought of what Peter would say might have just been as painful as seeing him.

While it still made Tony want to throw up and punch a wall, and the realization had the same reaction, seeing Peter wasn’t the worst thing in the world. As long as he ignored the ventilator and steady beepings of machines hooked up to him, it wasn’t as bad as it was before. With all the outside distractions at the back of his mind, it was if he was watching him sleep. His hair was messy and framed his face oddly. If Tony looked hard enough, he swore that he could see his face twitch. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that everything was normal.

Almost.

Pepper joined him in sitting in Peter’s room after the move. She had decorated it to something the kid would enjoy, a Star Wars blanket on the couch, Legend of Zelda figurines on the side table, a computer filled with his favorite music. She had explained that it was for when he woke up that he wouldn’t be so afraid.

Tony knew deep, deep down that Peter would never wake up, but still smiled when Pepper showed him the new room.

Bless that woman. She tried so hard, stayed the constant in Tony’s ever-changing, ever-shittier life. The billionaire reminded himself to get her something nice for being such a great person.

Pepper was currently pacing the room, (a habit that a now even-more fidgety Tony had picked up) talking with a sweet voice that was simply dripping with malice. From what he could glean, she was trying to get the best doctors on this case, ones that were willing to work with Bruce and report to the Avengers.

Tony wasn’t really surprised when her offers were constantly denied.

Tony, on the other hand, was sitting next to Peter. With the amount of time he had started sitting here, he’d have to bring a chair from home. Next to Peter, the kid’s cold hand fitting like a puzzle piece into his, was the only place where Tony could even pretend that he was protecting him.

“Thank you for taking your time to speak with me. If you reconsider, feel free to contact me at this number.” Pepper smiled behind the phone, widening her eyes in a _please kill me_ look that Tony knew all too well. It almost made the billionaire smile.

In fact, only seeing Pepper in person made Tony smile. He hadn’t seen her in what would have to be at least a year- Tony had been busy with the Avengers and Peter and who the hell knows what else in New York, and Pepper with running Stark Industries on the West Coast. Though, when Pepper heard of what happened to Tony’s son, she dropped everything and caught a flight across the country.

As Pepper did the modern equivalent of slamming her phone shut, Tony couldn’t help but reminisce. It was so common of Pepper to stop dead in her tracks and go back to help someone she loved. Unfortunately or fortunately- the billionaire couldn’t quite tell- that included Tony. So many times had Pepper gone running to his side when he was in trouble, whether it be when they were in the midst of a romantic relationship or not. She always seemed to be there.

A hand waiving in front of his face pulled Tony out of his reverie.

“Tony? You still alive there?” Pepper’s hair framed her face in such a way that made all her features look soft, comforting.

”Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Tony said. “Just thinking.”

Pepper frowned and tilted her head, flashing Tomy back to the days that she would do so when he got back from a mission and she scanned him for injuries. “Looks like you’ve done a lot of that lately,” she whispered, tracing her thumb over the bags under Tony’s eyes. At one point, it may had turned him on, but now it was comforting.

As if he were coming home.

Tony straightened his mouth and raised his eyebrows in an oops motion.

“When was the last time you ate?” Pepper had backed away, hand hovering over Tony’s. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

”Uh...”

”That’s what I thought. Come on,” she commanded, taking Tony’s hand and pulling him up.

Somehow, they ended up in the cafeteria, a tray filled to the brim with mediocre hospital food in front of Tony. He had noticed quite a few people take a double-take when they laid eyes on him in Pepper, but couldn’t really find it within him to care. If anything, Pepper took on the “responsibility” of caring, using her signature _don’t talk to him_ look and the occasional middle finger, all tricks from when it was her job to keep Tony in line.

Tony had a sneaking suspicion that she still considered it a job, just not a paid one.

The two were chatting absentmindedly about life- Pepper’s new girlfriend, the new changes Tony was making to the Iron Man suit. Even though it had only been 10 days, for the first time in what seemed like forever, things felt nearly normal.

”So, what’re you gonna do when he wakes up? Throw one of the parties like you used to?” Pepper asked, smiling slightly as she sipped on her straw. The question shot an arrow through Tony’s heart, a sensation he was starting to become accustomed to. The arrow was already there, now it was just being twisted.

Tony shrugged and stared down at the table. He felt like he was in high school again, a pretty girl and the whole rest of the world staring at him as he go overwhelmed. He could feel the tears start to come and pushed them back.

Right when a ray of sun peaked through the clouds, he was back here in hell.

He knew what was coming- it was practically deja vu at this point- when Pepper placed a hand on top of his and squeezed. It was one that parents gave their children when they were about to do something big, the one that adults gave when they were about to reassure.

Though, at this point, all the assurances were empty.

”Hey, he’s gonna wake up. I’ll make sure of it.”

The look in Pepper’s eyes- bright and determined- showed him that she truly believed it.

If only Tony could.

He could only hum in response, the blackness of doubt swallowing him hole once again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i say this every hapter but please comment!! i love them and they make my day!! also check me out on tumblr if you want updates and shitposts
> 
> on another note i wrote half this chapter with climbing tape on a lot of my hand bc i beat my hands up big time at my comp and yesterday climbing at practice whoopsies,,, also my current bruise count is at 10, including one that covers at least a fourth of my kneecap. whoops.


	6. Day 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo so i found out tony gets the shrapnel in his chest removed in iron man 3 but for the sake of the story he still needs it to survive!! k thx just go with it this is pure angst so any angst i can think of, ur gettinn
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com (someone remind me to change it to alecjbi sometime so i match lol)  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

Count it on Tony to die on his first day back to work.

(Pepper and Steve, of course, chastised him on this wording, while Tony told them that they should he happy, he was making jokes again!

Steve merely gave him a _look_ and walked out the room.)

Though, it wasn’t exactly a joke- Tony did die for about a minute. Their opponent- a large drone that seemed as if it had been created by the largest comic book villains that Iron Man had ever seen- was the culprit. It had practically ripped out the arc reactor- and metal covering the massive hole in his chest.Tony somehow stumbled back to the compound in what must’ve looked like a drunken stupor, cluching his bleeding chest, swerving and falling with every step. He couldn’t quite get enough energy to call for FRIDAY to get him a replacement before he collapsed and, well, died.  

Thank god Steve had been there to hook in the arc reactor and send Tony sputtering back to life like an old machine.

That was the reason as to why Tony currently having an arc reactor hanging loosely out of his chest, a needle hooking up to an IV in his arm, and was performing surgery on himself.

Tony wasn’t exactly sure why or how, but he didn’t feel as though he were going to throw up into his open wound anymore when he inserted a metal tube into the hole in his chest.

He was just starting the stitches as the door to the examination room slid open. “Hey, Tone- okay, what the fuck?”

Tony snorted, surprisingly not stabbing himself in the process. He made a mental note of having to reward himself later with a drink. A very, _very_ strong drink. 

“Stevie, you’ve caught me doing much worse than this,” Tony said, his tongue sticking out slightly as he stitched. A warm hand appeared on his shoulder, admiring his work.

”Man, that drone must’ve gotten you good. You’re reusing jokes.” Tony exhaled in response. A pause. “Why don’t you let Bruce do this? It’s been a long day, Tony.” Steve’s voice was gentler this time, and Captain America had turned into the warm, loving boyfriend Tony knew.

The billionaire and amateur doctor sighed, finishing and tying off his last stitch. “Didn’t want to bother him. It’s all my fault for getting it ripped out, anyways.”

Steve’s hand on his shoulder rubbed back and forth, a warm body slipping next to him on the examination table as he threw the needle on a tray. His voice was smaller, something Tony was white unaccustomed to. “You know, you scared me back there. I thought you were gone.”

”Well, I mean, I was.”

Steve laughed bitterly. “You’re not helping, Tony.”

Tony tipped his head to lean it against Steve’s broad shoulders. Tony wasn’t small by any means, yet he felt quite tiny against his boyfriend. “I know, Steve. I’m sorry.”

Tony’s head tilted up and down as Steve sighed, his shoulders moving with the breath.  “But seriously, I was scared. You were just lying there in a pool of _your own blood.”_ The captain spoke with his hands extended in front of him, eyes wide as if he could not think of anything worse. “I thought- I thought you were going to end up...”

Steve had trailed off, but the sinking feeling deep in Tony’s stomach clued him into how the sentence would finish. “Like Peter. That I would end up like Peter.”

The man Tony was leaned up against sighed once more. “Yeah. Like Peter.”

The downward spiral had started, and Tony knew there was no way out now.

“I... never want you to see that,” he said finally, voice hushed yet too loud in the empty room. Steve’s breathing stayed steady, calm, staying there as something to hold onto as Tony went on. “It’s my own personal circle of Hell. I can’t stop reliving that day, I can’t stop seeing him _dying-“_

“Then tell me about it.”

The proposition was a curt statement. Steve spoke as if it were something he said every day, as if it were as normal as asking what time it was. It sent a bitter laugh bubbling in Tony’s chest, one that never quite left his lips.

”I can’t.”

That statement was true. The billionaire, philanthropist, playboy, goddamn _Iron Man_ couldn’t find it within him to recount that day. Day one, where it all started. The words would simply get stuck in his throat, tears speaking volumes instead. 

Steve, the normally understanding, stoic man he was, wouldn’t accept this answer.

”Like hell you can’t.”

The sour laugh pushing against Tony’s lips escaped as he sat up to face his boyfriend. “What?”

Steve’s eyes were tired, as if he were looking into the past, two lives mashed into one person. “You always do this. You internalize everything, put it in that neat little box in the back of your head and forget about it. Tony, you can’t forget about this. There are just some things you can’t just push away.”

Tony swore he saw a telltale shine in Steve’s eyes. “I’ve seen you do it for years, Tony, and you suffer every time. This is going to destroy you if ignore it. I can’t watch you go through that.” 

Tony stared into those eyes- deep, forgiving, understanding, but above all, worried. Scared. It would kill him to drag Steve down with him.

Well, as long as he was going down, he should reduce the carnage while he could.

Tony sighed for what seemed like the millionth time that night. “I... well, I might as well show you.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in a worried fashion. He knew that his boyfriend was worried as to how he would react, but it wasn’t like Tony hadn’t watched this video a thousand times already.

”FRIDAY, bring up the Iron Man suit recording from the day of Peter’s incident, please.” A hand had migrated to Tony’s back, rubbing comforting circles into the stiff, nervous muscle.

”There does not appear to be a screen I can relay the video,” the voice of FRIDAY said in the otherwise quiet room. Tony exhaled and rubbed his eyes.

”Okay, just put it on the screen in my lab. Please skip to the timestamp I marked and wait for me to start it.”

”Yes, sir.”

Steve tilted his head to the side, the hand on the other’s back stilling to simply sit there. It was comforting, still, and Tony appreciated his partner’s ability to be comforting with only a touch. While it wouldn’t heal him, it could distract him.

”Why your lab? It’s halfway across the compound.”

Tony turned around to grasp Steve’s hand in his own. With his free hand, he cupped Steve’s face, thumb moving gently across the defined jawbone. 

“Don’t want to taint any other room in this place with that memory. Might as well watch someone die in a place where I’ve died a few times.”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed as Tony slipped off the examination table and walked towards the door. “Tony, he’s not-“

The superhero stopped, staring out the open doorway. The abstract painting staring back at him provided him a distraction from the tears prickling at the back of his eyes. “He will be. You wanted to see it, you coming or not?”

The paper on the examination crinkled as Steve awkwardly adjusted his weight. “I... yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.”

”Okay, Ste, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> steve and tone watching the incident will happen next chapter!! i’m not feeling very creative and just wanted to get a chapter out.
> 
> anyways, pls comment and yell at me or follow me on tumblr for shitposts and updates. happy holidays if you celebrate them!! if not, have a good week my peeps


	7. Day 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m not very happy wth this, but take it ig
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

The sun had set long ago. That glowing ball of light disappeared, Tony’s hope at forgetting anything and having what even resembled a normal night vanishing with it.

Tony lead Steve through the halls of the Avengers compound. Fluorescent lighting dug into his eyes as he traced down the familiar path to his lab. The halls were filled with two pairs of footfalls, all the other agents asleep after a hard fight. Tony’s eyes were drooping, his hurricane of a mind begging him to fall asleep. 

He could turn around and tell Steve that it was too late, he’d show him tomorrow. Though, there was no way he would work up the courage to show him tomorrow- though said courage could hardly be considered half-hearted at the moment- and Steve probably would refuse to let them stop.

Well, sleep was for the weak anyways.

They slowly approached the lab, glass panes surrounding the disaster and genius that was contained in Tony’s corner of the compound. The lights were turned off, the only source of light in the room from the hall and large television with a video Tony dreaded on it. 

Steve, being the gentleman he was, typed in the code to access the room and held the door open for Tony. Normally he would bow with flourish or launch a quip towards his partner, but now, he was quite tired. 

Tony made his way towards the couch, Steve close behind. Once they were both collapsed in a heap of tired muscles and nervous hearts, Steve wrapped a comforting arm around his partner. Tony leaned into him, sighing and closing his eyes in an attempt to escape what was about to happen.

The billionaire’s voice came out too quiet to even be uttered by Tony Stark. 

“FRIDAY, start the video.”

Steve gripped him tighter, rubbing a hand over his arm in an attempt to be comforting. Though it was familiar, almost safe, Tony knew it would do nothing to help.

”Of course, sir.”

The LED screen spurred into motion. The camera was shaky as Tony crashed through a window, head spinning widly in search for his son.

The scene was so familiar. It was burned into the back of his mind, the emblem of the worst pain Tony had ever experienced. He felt himself slipping, falling, falling...

_There was blood._

_Over his years of saving people and fighting crime, Tony had seen a lot of blood. He’d seen men die in front of him, good and bad. Blood had haunted his dreams for years, splattered against the walls of his mind. He had never truly been bothered by it but this... this was different._

_The room wasn’t a slaughterhouse, at least. The criminals, or whatever the hell they were, were long gone by now. That was one thing off the long, long list of the things that Tony had to worry about._

_No, scratch that. He was Iron Man, he had no time to worry-_

_A quiet alert from FRIDAY was too late. His eyes carried him along the trail of blood, leading him to his worst nightmare._

_Tony never really had a paternal, or even fatherly instinct, but in this moment, he was sure he had never moved faster._

_Taking a deep breath, Tony ripped off his son’s blood stained mask. A familiar mop of brown hair lay in front of him soaked in a dark red substance. It lay over Peter’s face, sticking to his forehead, staining the pale skin with trails of liquid a shade of a horrible red._

_Tony had never been scared by gore, yet a sick, warm liquid shot up his throat. This was his son, his own goddamn_ son. _Tony didn’t need to ask FRIDAY for Peter’s vitals to know he was near death. He only hoped that Peter was shrouded in warm light as he lifted him and cradled his head, rather than the dark reality he was in, rather than the ice water being dumped down his throat._

_As Peter stopped breathing, a red alarm blaring in the corner of his eyes-_

_“Tony!”_ a voice yelled. Strong hands gripped around Tony’s biceps quite literally shook him out of his vision. Steve stared at his with wild eyes, hands shaking as he released a now-lucid Tony.

”What...” he muttered, staring at Steve, who was now knelt in front of him, head on the wood floor. His body was shaking, spasming in no way that could be healthy, and Tony could only suspect the worse.

Though, no comforting statement or even slightly coherent thought could make its way to his tongue. 

“Why are we on the floor?”

Tony Stark, the billionaire, philanthropist, playboy, Iron Man, and apparently the epitome of eloquency. 

“Jesus Christ, you fucking scared me,” Steve muttered, head still attatched to the floor. As he raised it, and his eyes to meet Tony’s, the other could only imagine that he had put his partner through hell. Steve’s hair was a mess, fingers intertwined in it and pulling. Tear stains decorated his cheeks, eyes red and scared. 

Tony, not know what else to do, leaned in and hugged him. Steve melted into his touch, burying his head into the other’s shoulder.

”Don’t ever fucking do that again, Tony,” Steve muttered as they pulled apart. 

Tony simply stared back at him, tilting his head. “I don’t even know what I did.”

The captain sighed. “The, uh, the video started. And it was fine, until I looked over and you were practically pulling your hair out and rocking back and forth. You, uh, you fell off the couch and just started fucking _screaming_ and crying and scratching your arms.” Tony looked down, and sure enough, there were trails of blood and fleshed skin the size of his fingernails. “I haven’t really heard you scream, but, goddamn, it sounded like you were dying. I _thought_ you were dying.”

Tony slumped against the couch and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. The pain, oddly enough, was comforting. If only it could all go away, if he could just rid it all, if he could just start running and never look back. 

Though, a halfhearted ”sorry” was all he could muster. 

Steve merely put a hand on his knee in an attempt to say it was all okay.

But it wasn’t.

Nothing about the situation said okay. No one, when looking at Tony, would think “yeah, he’s okay, yeah, he has his shit together”. Nothing about this goddamn life he was living in was _okay._

He was too tired for all of this shit. 

Just as he had dropped his hands, as he accepted the fact that his life was shit and there was a slim chance he’d ever start to deal with it, a voice (well, a few actually) appeared outside his door.

”Hey, why the hell did I hear screaming?” the voice belonging to Rhodey called. Tony could hear a worried Pepper pushing her way to open to door, a sighing Bruce asking if he needed to bring any medical equipment.

”Fuck me,” Tony muttered. 

Steve, now laying with his feet towards Tony, groaned. “Not now.”

Though Tony may had once laughed at that, there was nothing within him that could merit a laugh, or even a smile. “Haha. But my night is already shit, I don’t need this.”

”Well, hold on to your horses,” Steve muttered as the door open, Avengers agents flowing into the room to check on the two disheveled men.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hi i usually have witty stuff to say but i’m tired af and really sore from climbing. in that place, uh, guess i’m just gonna say how much i appreciate all of you?? i lovelovelove getting comments, and you guys leave the best ones. off the top of my head, someone named zoey always leaves the nicest comments and gives me a bunch of ideas and i luv them. and all you. i’m so thankful you take time to read my stuff, it means sosososo much to me


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